Last night the boy and I went over the list of hats I’ve made him. We can account for 5 (I wonder if there was one other, he is adamant there was not). Only one is extant. I hope that the various others that were left on Septa trains found their way to those who needed some warmth.
I essentially finished the newest hat a few hours ago. It was still on the needles, he tried it on, and it was officially too snug. He wants a little more room. OK, I understand that. I’d measured his head and left some give, but he wanted more. So I took it out.
What started as an olive green hat with some grey accent is going to just be a grey hat. Because, screw it, I’m not going to bother with stripes or the fact that there’s too little green. There is enough grey, it’s cashmerino, and why would I want to knit with anything else!?
No photos—the defunct hat was frogged without pause.